What the Walls Could Say

 This week, I finally met Fr. Greg Boyle.  In many ways, it felt like a full-circle moment. When I was seventeen years old, sitting in a high school classroom reading Tattoos on the Heart , I remember being deeply moved by the way Father Greg wrote about people. He wrote about gang members, incarceration, addiction, and violence with so much compassion and dignity that it changed the way I thought about humanity altogether. At that age, the idea of a single person creating a space like Homeboy Industries felt almost larger-than-life to me. So for years, I imagined what it would feel like to finally meet him. And honestly? It was not as surreal as I expected. When I walked into Homeboy Industries, there were already around twenty people waiting to speak with him. Our interaction lasted maybe five minutes. He was kind. He took a picture with me. I introduced myself. And then the moment passed. What surprised me most was not the interaction itself, but my reaction to it. I kept w...

  Somewhere between prison visits, long drives across California, workshop preparations, shared lunches, and everyday conversations, the Partnership for Re-Entry Program (PREP) office quietly became my second home. When I first arrived in California, everything felt unfamiliar. New people. New places. New routines. I came into PREP nervous, unsure of myself, and uncertain about what these six weeks would truly hold. But from the very first day, I was welcomed with warmth that never once felt forced. What struck me most about the people at PREP was not only their commitment to the work but the lives behind that commitment. Many of the people in the office have been directly impacted by incarceration and systemic harm themselves. Some have experienced prison firsthand. Others have carried the weight of losing loved ones, rebuilding their lives, or navigating systems designed to break people down instead of helping them heal. And yet, despite all of that, they chose to dedicate their ...

   (Left to Right) Sr.Mavis, Sr.Mary Sean, Me, and Lucy at Corcoran   The first few days of June took us to California State Prison, Corcoran, and California Substance Abuse Treatment Facility and State Prison(SATF); both days were unbearably hot. The kind of heat that settles into your skin and exhausts you before the day even begins. Yet despite the heat, dozens of men still chose to show up for our workshops. At Corcoran, we facilitated a workshop out on the yard in what was formerly the SHU, the Security Housing Unit, a place once associated with isolation and punishment, now repurposed into what many call a self-help university. There was something symbolic about that transformation. A place once designed to isolate men is now being used for reflection, accountability, and growth.      More than fifty men sat outside in the beating sun participating in our workshop. Watching them commit to that experience reminded me that accountability is not passive...

      This week, I took a small break from prison work and spent the day at St. Ignatius of Loyola Catholic School with Sr.Wanda, who teaches first and second grade. Because of low enrollment, both grades are combined into one classroom.      Walking into the school felt grounding in a completely different way. After spending so much time reflecting on prisons, punishment, and systems of harm, being surrounded by children reminded me that social work is also about prevention, nurture, and creating environments where young people can safely grow into themselves before the world hardens them.      The classrooms were full of children learning, laughing, sharing stories, and trying to understand the world around them. Watching them made me emotional. Maybe because I saw so many possibilities sitting in that room. Maybe because I understood how important spaces like this are for children whose futures are still being shaped in real time.  ...

This weekend, I traveled six hours to Fremont, California, for the Jubilee celebration of the Dominican Sisters of Mission San Jose, also known as the Holy Rosary congregation. Somewhere along the drive, between highways and hills, I kept wondering what it must feel like to dedicate your entire life to something bigger than yourself. When we arrived at the motherhouse, I was immediately met with joy. Not loud or performative joy, but the kind that settles gently into a room after years of love, sacrifice, and community. The jubilarians were celebrated with so much warmth. You could feel how deeply loved they were, not because of status or accomplishment, but because of the lives they had built in service to others and alongside one another. Watching the sisters laugh together, embrace, tell stories, and honor decades of commitment made me realize how rare it is to witness a community that has truly grown old together. There was something beautiful about seeing women celebrated simply f...

  Sr. Mary Sean, Me, and Lucy Sr. Mary Sean and Sr. Mavis One of many Gas Stations Me and Lucy My First time trying In and Out Burgers 10/10